


new and old

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, New Year's Eve, Tsukishima Kei is a Dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: On New Year's Eve, Tsukishima has a lot of regrets.Running away with Yamaguchi isn't one of them.





	

Their mothers aren’t going to miss them. Whenever they get together, Tsukishima-san and Yamaguchi-san develop an easy rapport that Tsukishima makes a point to stay as far away from as possible. His mother is the type to brag about her children. Since he actually _likes_ Yamaguchi-san, the last thing he wants is to be thrust into the spotlight in front of her.

Tsukishima’s mother has other acquaintances as well, and every year she never fails to put on a New Year’s party. With Akiteru visiting for the holidays, his mother’s older friends love to gush over the “handsome college boy”. Akiteru, though he feels awkward under all the attention, gets no help from his younger brother.

The first opportunity he sees, Tsukishima grabs Yamaguchi’s hand and slips out the back door. Yamaguchi doesn’t ask questions, just as eager to get away; they pass through the backyard gate and spill out beneath the street lights, panting and grinning at each other.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi laughs, “they’re going to realize we’re gone.”

“We’re teenagers,” Tsukishima replies, excitement shining on his face that would be uncharacteristic of him, were it not for the warm buzz of his first ever glass of champagne humming through his veins. (Yamaguchi had taken one sip of his and started choking; his best friend snorted at him.) “It’s okay to go off for New Year’s Eve. It’s almost expected.”

Yamaguchi easily accepts this as fact, though Tsukishima doesn’t miss the way his hand slips into his pocket to caress his cellphone. Yamaguchi will text his mother later to tell her where they are. He’s always very stubborn about keeping her informed, though Yamaguchi-san is scatterbrained enough not to notice if her son stayed out all night. As Tsukishima sets off down the street, his friend trots in his wake. Their shadows keep them company, tall in the streetlights, until the boys slip into darkness and find themselves alone again.

Tsukishima has no clue where they’re going. All he knows that he wants to _go._ If he had to sit inside for another minute as the last hours of the year slowly wind down, he feels sure he would have screamed. Sitting silent amongst his mother’s chattering friends, it’s really too easy to reflect on the year that’s gone by. There is a lot he hasn’t done – a lot he wishes he had the nerve to – and a lot that he regrets. He doesn’t want to get lost in such thoughts, hard as it is with Yamaguchi right beside him.

Yamaguchi’s hand is still clasped in his as they make their way down the dark sidewalk. Tsukishima forces himself not to think about it. His palms are getting sweaty, and Yamaguchi has bandaids over the tips of two fingers, but somehow Tsukishima can’t bring himself to pull away. The contact is enough to burn. 

“Where are we going?” Yamaguchi asks after several minutes of walking, filled only by the harmony of their breathing. Tsukishima doesn’t know; then he looks around, glances back at Yamaguchi once more, and finds that he does.

“I know a place around here. It’s close, come on.”

Tradition would dictate that they go to the shrine, but Tsukishima isn’t sure what he believes in, and he’s never been one to have his fortune told to him. Yamaguchi feels differently, he knows, but Yamaguchi isn’t the one leading. They can go to the shrine later, if he wants. For now, Tsukishima steers them both up a steep hill.

It’s a climb he’s made enough times before to know it well, even in the dark. By the time they reach the top, Yamaguchi is panting, but Tsukishima is barely winded. He surveys the lookout point, over which a good portion of the city can be seen, and decides this is the perfect spot.

“You don’t think –” Yamaguchi starts, gazing down at the view with wide eyes. Tsukishima nods a silent answer. The town’s fireworks will be perfectly visible from here. He comes up here sometimes when he needs to be alone – when his house just feels too small and stale, and he feels the need to run. He’s shown no one this place until now, when he shares it – just like so many other things – with Yamaguchi.

He’s been afraid for so long of giving, but Yamaguchi has never demanded anything from him. He always meets Tsukishima where he is; his best friend does the same in turn. That is the foundation of their relationship, and even though it shouldn’t, it terrifies Tsukishima.

Not much is capable of scaring him. Tsukishima likes to pretend that he can’t feel anything at all.

Ever since he saw his brother shattered, he hasn’t been able to feel much for anyone. He’d sworn to himself that he was happy that way; now, he can’t help but wonder if it was all a lie. He can delude himself for as long as he wants, but Yamaguchi has always been a force of nature. He will never let his best friend rest.

The sky is lit up with the firstexplosion, and next to him Yamaguchi lets out a sharp gasp. He scrambles up onto the rock, drawing his knees up to make himself comfortable. When he taps on the space next to him, Tsukishima doesn’t hesitate. 

Yamaguchi is real and solid next to him, the heat radiating from his body filling Tsukishima with warmth. Yamaguchi is so good at that – making him feel more than what he is. It isn’t possible to feel nothing around Yamaguchi, try as he may. The other boy is so brimming with life that Tsukishima cannot be empty.

Where he’d thought he was a hollow shell, he’s never really been hollow at all. Something has bound him to Yamaguchi for the longest time, an ever-evolving emotion that took him six years to find the words to explain.

_I love you, Yamaguchi._

_I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t._

_I want to stay by your side._

_Everything you do is special, and I want to see you grow to be happy with yourself._

_I want to make you happy._

There’s so much he wants to say, and so much he’s never been able to. This has been a year of uncovering so many things he’d thought he’d lost, and of finding what he never had before. He’s built up a collection of revelations over the months, words he desperately longs to spit out. Even so, he knows he never will. He isn’t like Hinata, brash, or Yamaguchi, indomitable. He is cautious, and waits for opportunities that will never come. That has always been his way.

He knows his feelings aren’t reciprocated, so he doesn’t understand why he still longs to speak his mind.

When he glances at Yamaguchi out of the corner of his eye, to see his friend’s face lit up by firework glow, things make a lot more sense.

I guess emptiness really is all you know, he thinks to himself, and bites the inside of his cheeks ruefully.

“Tsukki, why did you bring me here?”

It’s not a question that can be easily answered. It’s one that leaves Tsukishima grasping at straws, searching for words that are not in his steadily-built collection. Yamaguchi stares at him for a long moment before blinking, dark eyes wide and lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.  
  
“Do you care about me?”

It’s the last question he expects. Tsukishima freezes up, and Yamaguchi must take that to mean _something_ negative because he presses on. “I care about you… and I know that you must feel the same way, because you put up with me.” He ducks his head with a quiet, humorless laugh. Skin prickles along Tsukishima’s arms. “But… the thing is, Tsukki, I don’t think you care about me in the same way that I care about you. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I know this is kind of random, and if you don’t want to answer that’s fine, but even if you don’t I don’t want to end the year without _knowing_ –”

Tsukishima cuts him off with the boldest (but not the first) impulsive move he’s made all night, by leaning in and kissing him.

Yamaguchi’s lips aren’t anything like he imagined. They’re dry, and chapped, and taste a little like sweet sauce from dinner. His palm burns where it rests against Yamaguchi’s face. Though his eyes are closed, Tsukishima can imagine Yamaguchi’s own wide open, staring at him in confusion and alarm.

Has he ruined everything? The thought filters past his barriers, even with his lips on Yamaguchi’s. He doesn’t want to let his friend go; he might not get a chance like this again. He might not ever talk to Yamaguchi again, if he’s messed up as badly as he fears.

Eventually, air demands that they part. While Tsukishima draws away slowly, Yamaguchi remains still. His eyes are squeezed shut; his lips, barely parted, draw heavy breaths as soon as he can find air. A firework explodes in the sky to illuminate the flush over his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima spits out. “I shouldn’t have done that –”

“I get it,” says Yamaguchi, still not opening his eyes. “You told me.”

“What?”

He doesn’t sound angry, and when he finally opens his eyes his gaze is warm. Tsukishima feels his body fill with warmth, and dizziness almost overwhelms him. “You do care about me,” says Yamaguchi, and breaks into a smile.

At once, Tsukishima feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs with a single blow. Yamaguchi’s happiness hits him like a fist, and he feels almost delirious with relief. The weight that had been hanging over his shoulders all evening (the knowledge that he loves Yamaguchi, has loved Yamaguchi, and will end another year without telling him) has suddenly melted away all at once. He feels light; maybe it’s just the champagne in his blood, but he feels as if he could float away.

Yamaguchi’s eyes are wide, inky pools glimmering with light that Tsukishima could so easily get lost in. His teeth glance over his chewed bottom lip, and he swallows. Tsukishima watches the way his throat bobs, and feels a sudden urge to be closer to him. Not to kiss him again, but to _touch_ him. Not thinking twice, he cups Yamaguchi’s chin in his hand – gently, allowing his fingers to just glance over the other’s jawline.

Another firework goes off in the background, reflecting in Yamaguchi’s eyes. “Standing here right now,” the boy breathes, “I think I’m on top of the world.”

It’s not enough. Tsukishima wants to take him higher – would take him higher, all the way to the stars, if that’s what Yamaguchi asked. He’d get a plane. He’d build a spaceship. He’d pile them both in a rocket ship to the moon, and he _knows_ how little sense he’s making but he’s desperate to see that awestruck gleam in the boy he loves’ eyes. It is the most delicious thing in the world, and Tsukishima craves it. He is starving without it.

“I want to give you more than this,” he mutters without breaking eye contact. “Let me. Please.”

Yamaguchi’s lips part, slight and stunned; but then he breaks into a smile. Suddenly, Tsukishima feels like he really is flying.

"I guess I was wrong,” Yamaguchi whispers. “We do care about each other in just the same way.”

Tsukishima couldn't be happier for it.


End file.
